


Paint Me Like One Of Your Dead Daves

by Twinings_Peppermint



Series: Homebaked [5]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Not an annoying insert, PTSD, Painting, Protective Diego Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 17:52:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17965304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinings_Peppermint/pseuds/Twinings_Peppermint
Summary: Klaus paints as a means of therapy. Stuff ensues.





	Paint Me Like One Of Your Dead Daves

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy!

Klaus was spending more time sober than not nowadays. Sometimes he’d fall into old habits- those were the days when he just couldn’t take it. He’d go missing, running back to his old alleyways and let the sickening nostalgia of one joint too many overtake him. Diego would come for him, bring him back home, and he have a bath or something. Diego would take care of him, letting him calm down before talking to him about what happened.  
Klaus learnt, after a couple goes round of this, that more than anything, Diego got scared when he pulled something like that. He’s not sure what first gave it way- the reappearance of the stuttering, or the whole ass room he had renovated for Klaus.  
The room was a kind of safe haven for Klaus on days like that.  
Ever since he’d been doing something other than getting high, shitfaced or finding means do to so, Klaus had started actually doing something during the day. Hobbies.  
He’d stuck with knitting, often making tacky Christmas sweaters around that time of year, or gloves and scarfs for Diego. Primarily though, Vanya would come round and try and learn how to knit. She’d never get very far, and they’d usually end up talking, with Spork coming to lay across Vanya.  
Klaus would often end up knitting Vanya sweaters- he had good taste and knew what she liked, and he would even knit matching ones for her and Kal. (Or Kelly, her fiancée) Kal would come round sometimes too, or though not as often with her line of work. She was a CEO of some big company, and often used times when Vanya was out to catch up on whatever work she’d miss looking after Vanya. She’d never make Vanya feel bad about it though.  
Either way, Klaus would enjoy his time with Vanya as the only other tolerable member of the family. He could hang around the others, yes, but since 5 died and Ben started hanging out with him, he’d felt more isolated from the family than ever. Including his legal divorce from it. Of course he had Diego, but he was family in a different sense.  
Another thing Klaus had picked up was art- not big projects or landscapes (kind hard to when you have the attention of a hyperactive squirrel) but usually portraits. Normally whatever he’d been having nightmares about or just whatever had been plaguing his mind. Diego felt a lot more at ease as well- it meant he could wake up and not be panicking about Klaus first thing.  
He would very rarely go down into Klaus’ safe haven without permission. It was Klaus’, and he respected privacy.  
When he had too, it was because he was worried or food was on offer and Klaus hadn’t left his dungeon of dooms.  
This was one of such times.  
It had been a while had Diego had been down; it had been a while since Klaus had need to use it. He never really got a good look at what was down there, as there had always been sheets over the many easels or it had been too dark and Klaus had ushered him out. Sure, he’d felt a little pushed around, but Klaus didn’t complain was he was being a dick, so he didn’t say anything.

On this occasion, Klaus had been in there almost all of the day and night. He couldn’t just let Klaus go unsupervised or unchecked upon at least.  
The lights were coming from under the door, and a still shadow was cast in the middle of it. Diego opened the door a bit, calling his name into the room. 

“Klaus? You there, kitten?”  
Klaus loved that pet name.  
“Klaus?” he said, more urgency this time.

He waited a beat for announcing his entrance and fully swinging the door open.  
The room was full of easels, all lively with colour and intricacy. Klaus was standing in front of one, paintbrush hanging loosely from his hand. Tears pricked his eyes, his bottom lip being practically bitten off. The easel was no bigger than the others, and seemed to be freshly painted. Diego moved towards Klaus, fully prepared to comfort him.  
He stopped dead in his tracks as he properly saw the painting on the easel.  
It was of a man, broad shouldered, with a curly mop of brown hair. His eyes were a deep blue, looking almost glazed over. His chest was beautifully highlighted, with a soft tuft of hair sprouting from it. Dangling from his neck was a set of detailed dog tags, numbers and everything. His lips were twisted into an innocent, gleeful smile.

But the centrepiece, the detail, was a hole in his head, bleeding down onto his forehead. His lips had a dribble descending from it. 

“I-is that...” Diego stammered out, gesturing towards the image.  
“Dave…” Klaus croaked out, holding back tears, the paintbrush and his knees falling to floors.  
“He was so bright… everything about him, Dee. He was stuck in such a god-awful place, surrounded by blood and death and… he was so… so… perfect. I loved him so much, Dee. So, so much.”  
“Klaus, it’s been years.” Diego came out with.  
“I know. I know. But I still see him sometimes y’know? That’s the worst part of all... this. You can’t- you can’t move on, Dee. You can’t FORGET.”  
Tears rolled down his face, his face crumpling into a pitiful mess of red and wailing. Diego stood there, unable to move.  
Klaus still saw Dave. Did he talk to him? ‘He was perfect.’ What did that mean?  
“Klaus, you need to move on.” Diego snapped, surprising even himself by the harshness in his voice. He didn’t mean to sound that like. Klaus was upset, distraught, and this was no time to be jealous. Dave was dead for fucks sake.  
“Get out.” Klaus said, barely above a whisper.  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
“Get out, Diego.”

Diego was stunned into silence. Klaus always put up with his shit, as he put up with Klaus’. 

“I-I-I…” Diego stuttered.  
“Please, Diego.” Fuck. He sounded hurt. He was still holding back tears, his eyes glossy.  
“No.” Diego found himself saying. That was new. He strode over to the equally as shocked Klaus, not breaking eye contact. If he was going to be Jealous, he might as well do it right. 

Knocking the easel and canvas down, he sunk down to Klaus’ level, practically dropping on top of him as he clung to him, wrapping his arms around the crumpled figure.  
“I’ve got you baby.” He whispered into his ear.  
“You hear me? You’re mine now and nothing like that’s ever gonna happen again. You can hear it, can’t you?”  
He was holding Klaus’ head up to his chest, placing him on his heartbeat.  
“I’m alive.”

They sat there like that for a few minutes. He let Klaus’ cry out, talking about Dave, how much they’d done together. Their first kiss, their first night, that time they snuck of camp for a sort-of-date. The thrill. The warmth. The abandonment of reality, even in a place like that. 

And then he described Dave’s lifeless body, his glazed over, rolled back eyeballs. The stench of his blood and the fresh wounds. The way Klaus ran; desperate, scared and oh so cowardly.  
The way Dave looked now. Haunted, a stretched out face, mingling with all the others. That look of blame and a trace of regret. The echoing of his name.  
He stopped only when he caught the look on Diego’s face. Anger, most prominently, but also a conflicting empathy. He knew how he used to talk about Eudora. The amount of times he had drunkenly begged Klaus to see her again. Still…

“Paint me.” Diego eventually blurted out.  
Klaus looked bewildered, soon twisting into a look of amusement and a loud, echoing chuckle. Diego scanned his eyes, deadpanning him.  
“You’re jealous.” It wasn’t a question. Klaus could be so fucking smart when he wanted to. Diego looked away.  
“Take your shirt off, then.” Klaus released himself from Diego’s grasp, standing up to grab his things.  
“Why do I need too..?”  
“I need something to keep me focused.” Klaus came back with, his tone far from innocent as he looked Diego up and down.

**Author's Note:**

> Spork I their adopted cat btw.  
> Please leave kudos if you enjoyed and don't forget to comment! There will be a part 2.


End file.
